The Interview
Aurora woke up at quarter past seven on the day of her interview, the excitement and anxiety from the previous days coalescing into a tangible sense of urgency. The letter from the Chudley Cannons had been the only thing on her mind since it arrived. She was confident in her abilities, yet the uncertainty of competing with possibly more qualified candidates gnawed at her. She had been trying not to get her hopes too high about it, even though the more she thought about it, the more she wanted it.
The opportunity wasn’t just about the job. She would be able to travel with the team, fulfilling her long-held dream of exploring new places—a luxury she hadn’t been able to afford before. The increased salary was also a huge incentive, and Aurora often found herself daydreaming about the finer things she might finally be able to indulge in. Maybe she’d even treat herself to those high-end clothes her friends seemed to wear so effortlessly. But she shook herself out of her head, reminding herself that daydreaming wouldn’t win her the job.
Draco and Blaise, both friends who had already found their footing working with the Cannons, had extended their support, offering glowing recommendations. Aurora hoped that their good words, combined with her own experience, would be enough to secure the position.
Once she decided that she had done enough thinking about it, she finally dragged herself out of bed. Normally, she’d start the day with a workout, but her nerves were on edge. Instead, she unrolled her yoga mat in the center of her modest living room. Located on the outskirts of London, near The Red Ram pub, her apartment was comfortable but far from extravagant. The space was neat but not particularly ideal for exercise, and today, the chill in the air made the idea of jogging even less appealing.
Determined to calm her frazzled mind, Aurora turned on some soft, soothing music and focused on her yoga routine. The gentle stretching helped clear her head, and after an hour, she felt more at ease. She made herself a simple breakfast—toast and juice—knowing her stomach wouldn’t handle much more before the interview. After rinsing her plate, she headed for the shower, her mind already racing with thoughts about what to wear.
Aurora wanted to strike a balance between professionalism and practicality. She knew Draco and Blaise wore suits, given their roles, but she wanted something sporty yet sophisticated.
After her shower, Aurora stood in front of her closet, her hair still wet and a towel wrapped around her. She stared at the clothing inside, unsure what to choose. Nothing felt right. Her wardrobe, while practical for day-to-day life, didn’t exactly scream “Quidditch team professional.” Panic started to rise within her as the clock ticked closer to her departure time.
In a last-ditch effort, she decided to go to the one person she could always rely on for fashion advice—Pansy Parkinson. Normally, she would have written to Pansy before showing up at her house, but with the interview only a couple of hours away, Aurora felt she had no choice. She threw on a pair of slippers, grabbed some Floo Powder, and practically leaped into the fireplace.
Bursting into Pansy’s living room, she called out, “Pansy, are you home?”
Pansy, startled by the sudden arrival, turned from the kettle she was tending. “Aurora? Is everything alright?” she asked, eyes wide as she took in the sight of her friend, clad in nothing but a towel and slippers.
Pansy, wearing a grey silk nightdress and robe, looked both alarmed and concerned as she rushed to Aurora. Her graceful demeanor, even first thing in the morning, was striking. Pansy's natural elegance, with her long, dark hair in a loose bun and her effortlessly stylish attire, always made Aurora feel like a diamond in the rough by comparison.
No, everything is not alright,” Aurora replied, her voice fraught with panic. “I have my interview in less than two hours, and I don’t have a clue what to wear. I’m a disaster!” her anxiety finally spilling over. Tears began to well in her eyes, aggravating her distress.
Pansy enveloped Aurora in a comforting hug. “Oh, darling, don’t worry. You’ve come to the right place. I’ll fix you up in no time.” Pansy pulled her into a tight embrace and stroked her damp hair, which was now all over the place.
Pansy’s confidence was infectious, and Aurora began to relax as Pansy led her upstairs to her massive walk-in closet and handed her a cup of tea.
Aurora stood in awe of the sheer amount of options Pansy had at her disposal. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Aurora asked, still feeling a bit guilty for showing up unannounced and desperate.
“Of course not,” Pansy said, already rummaging through her collection of high-end clothes. “They aren't doing any good just sitting in there. Now sit tight, and I’ll find the perfect outfit for you.”
Pansy was meticulous as she pulled out outfits, assessing each one for its suitability. Aurora sat on the edge of Pansy's bed, watching the process. The volume of clothing options was overwhelming, but Pansy was a whirlwind of efficiency.
After what felt like an endless parade of options, Pansy finally settled on a white turtleneck paired with straight-leg jeans and an oversized light-green blazer, which she magically adjusted to fit Aurora’s frame. White loafers completed the ensemble, and Aurora had to admit, she looked good.
“Pans, are you sure you’re okay with me borrowing all this?” Aurora asked, eyeing the designer pieces skeptically. “The shirt alone must be worth 50 galleons.”
“It’s closer to 70,” Pansy replied with a grin, “but what’s the point of having nice things if I can’t share them with my friends?”
Aurora still looked at the witch with hesitation.
“It's fine, really. But it's going on 11 now, so let's not waste any more time debating. Let's get that hair done," Pansy said with a dismissive wave.
Pansy guided Aurora to her vanity and began styling her hair. The soft brush strokes and Pansy's encouraging smiles slowly calmed Aurora's nerves. She had nearly finished her tea when Pansy had motioned that she was done with her hair. Pansy styled Aurora's hair into a chic yet effortless bun, mirroring her own.
"How do you think I should do my makeup?" Aurora asked. "I had started at home but only applied a little."
"Rory, you know I think you look best natural," Pansy said, taking a seat on the chair with her back to the vanity. Her eyes met Aurora's green ones with genuine admiration. "If I could walk around with no makeup and look a fraction as good as you, I would."
Pansy had always raved about Aurora's ability to be naturally pretty. Aurora had never thought much about it, but it always made her smile to know someone as gorgeous as Pansy envied anything about Aurora's beauty.
Touched by the compliment, Aurora smiled. “Thanks, Pansy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably show up to your interview in a towel,” Pansy quipped.
“After my interview, let's go and grab some lunch,” Aurora said, ignoring the other witches' comment.
Aurora's eyes glazed at the watch on her wrist that Pansy was letting her borrow because 'it goes with the outfit' and realized it was 11:30, and Aurora has a habit of being what some would call 'overly early' to things. She lifted her head off Pansy's shoulder, and began to stand up, hugged the witch, and grabbed her empty tea mug. Together, they walked into Pansy's well-kept kitchen and placed the mug in the sink. She gave Pansy one last smile, waved her wand, and apparated to the Chudley Cannons' stadium.
The vast expanse of the stadium and the surrounding emptiness were imposing. Aurora felt a surge of anxiety as she approached the doors. Her nervousness escalated into nausea, her stomach churning with every step. She was sure that if she had eaten more than toast, it would be coming up by now. Her mind was racing—what would they ask? Would they like her?
The stadium was more confusing than Aurora had originally thought. She had been walking around aimlessly for about 15 minutes, constantly checking her watch to make sure she wasn't going to be late. After another few minutes of looking for someone to ask for directions, she checked her watch again, and that's when she was sure she had walked straight into a wall.
Whatever she ran into didn't even budge when she hit it. It wasn't until she realized her top was wet that she, in fact, didn't run into a wall.
Oliver Wood, a semi-familiar face from her Hogwarts days, looked down at Aurora with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. His coffee cup had toppled, and the steaming liquid now stained her pristine turtleneck.
"Hey, what the hell, have you ever tried looking where you're going?" Aurora blurted out, her frustration boiling over before she fully processed the situation.
"You're one to talk," Snapped back the Quidditch player. Aurora met eyes with him and realized he was taller and bulkier than she had remembered in their Hogwarts years.
Aurora took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she wiped at the coffee stain with shaking hands.
"I am on my way to an interview, and now my top is ruined—Oh my god, my top is ruined! This is a 70-gallon top, and you just spilled coffee all over it!" The last bit exited louder than Aurora had liked.
Oliver’s face softened slightly, but his frustration remained. “Look, it was an accident. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to—
You Gryffindors all think the world just revolves around you,” Aurora interrupted, her stress making her sharper than she intended. “As if you can just knock into someone, and it doesn’t matter.”
“Wow, really? And you Slytherins just walk around in expensive clothes like they’re nothing more than a sickle,” Oliver retorted, his temper rising. “I said I’m sorry. What else do you want?”
"You think I'm upset because I could afford this shirt? I wish I could own a 70 Galleon shirt. It's not mine, and now it's wrecked, and I'll have to buy a new one." Aurora was now so angry that tears were welling in her eyes.
Her voice wavered as she said, “It’s not about the money. It’s just… my interview, and it is all I can think about.”
Oliver’s expression shifted from irritation to empathy. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a crumpled gum wrapper. “Here, give me your contact information. I’ll make sure you get a new shirt.”
Aurora hesitated but quickly scribbled her contact details on the wrapper. She handed it back to him, looking down at her watch, and realized she was on the brink of being late.
“I really have to go. Can you just tell me how to get to the physical training offices?” Aurora asked, taking off her blazer off.
“Sure,” Oliver said, giving her quick directions. “Just head down that corridor, take the second left, and it’s the first door on the right.”
Aurora thanked him and rushed off, her heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. She found a bathroom along the way, where she quickly tried to hide the stain on her shirt by flipping it around and adjusting her blazer. Despite the chaos, she thought about how Pansy had chosen this outfit and hoped the overall look still conveyed the right impression.
She really did look nice, so she decided to take Pansy up on her offers of borrowing her clothes more often, as long as she stayed away from tall quidditch players with coffee cups.
With only three minutes to spare, Aurora arrived in the lobby of the physical training offices. She sank into a large leather chair, her nerves frayed. The toast she had for breakfast now felt like it might make an unexpected return, but she focused on calming her breathing. Although she would normally have been thinking about the interview, she couldn't help but think about her interaction with Oliver Wood, which had happened only minutes earlier.
Was he really going to give her a new shirt? Pansy would understand if Aurora had explained what happened and not held anything against her, but Aurora would feel bad if she was unable to replace the shirt for her. She knows that Pansy is the type of Slytherin Wood was referring to when he had said '70 galleon shirt like it costs nothing more than a sickle' and that she could easily buy another shirt or maybe not even notice the shirt missing at all.
She was surprised that he had even known that she was a Slytherin. She thought he must have recognized her from school, which didn't happen all that often. People easily recognized her more popular friends, but as she had only started hanging out with them in her sixth year, she was often forgotten by many students.
“Aurora Walker,” called out a young woman with strawberry blonde hair, motioning towards an office.
Aurora’s stomach dropped as she stood, her legs trembling slightly. She walked towards the office, her mind a swirl of self-doubt and worry. She hoped the interviewers would overlook her nerves and focus on her qualifications.
The office was tidy and understated, with a desk neatly arranged with parchment and a few personal touches. An older man sat behind the desk, his eyes crinkling in a friendly but professional manner as he gestured for her to take a seat.
The next thirty minutes passed in a blur. Aurora answered questions, attempted to showcase her skills and experience, and tried to project confidence despite her lingering nerves. She was aware of her own voice sounding distant and echoey in her head, making her fear she wasn’t making a strong impression.
When the interview finally concluded, she shook the interviewer’s hand, thanked him for his time, and left the room. As she walked out of the office, she felt a mixture of relief and dread. She couldn’t remember much of what was said or how she performed. Her nerves had clouded her memory, and she hoped her qualifications and enthusiasm had shone through despite her anxious state.
Aurora was grateful to have the interview behind her. As she started to the building, she thought about lunch with Pansy. It would be nice to unwind and talk about something other than the job. Her thoughts drifted back to Oliver Wood and their odd encounter. It was strange that he remembered her from school, but it seemed he was trying to make amends for the accident. She hoped he would follow through on his promise to cover the cost of the shirt.